


Undercover Revelations

by LilyK



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: Bodie is on tenterhooks while Doyle is undercover on a dangerous assignment.





	Undercover Revelations

With sure fingers, Bodie straightened his bow tie and flicked a piece of lint from his sleeve. He waited until the chauffeur opened the door to the Rolls, then paused to give anybody watching a chance to hone in on him. With the right amount of nonchalance, he slid from the vehicle and nodded to the driver. Casually, he glanced about, taking in his surroundings with a touch of boredom etched onto his face. The mansion looming before him was tastefully ostentatious. Bodie cast a thought to how much wealth and power there was in crime as he started to walk towards the main entrance. Experience immediately kicked in, and he spied the dual cameras that were carefully hidden from view on either side of the large double doors. With an inner smirk, he realised that most, if not all, of the establishment's patrons probably had no idea that they were being recorded. Talk about fodder for blackmail.

He paused at the bottom of the steps, tugging on each French cuff before straightening one of the gold cuff links. Then he sauntered up to the front entrance. The door opened immediately as he approached, and a giant of a man bid him enter. He nodded with just the right amount of arrogance for one in his position.

"Good evening, Sir William," the doorman said formally.

Bodie wasn't surprised that this man, who he'd never met before, knew his name. Well, at least the name he was using for the undercover op. He gave the doorman a cursory glance, wondering how much a custom-made dinner jacket cost for a bloke who weighed in excess of three hundred pounds and stood a good five inches over six feet. He felt like a dwarf next to this gorilla.

"'Evening," Bodie responded as he entered, calculating the best way to take the guard with his bare hands. It would be an interesting match, if push came to shove, he reckoned.

"This way, sir," the guard said, leading him down the elegantly-carpeted hallway, between walls dotted with old masters, to a set of finely-carved mahogany doors that sported royal heralds on each of the panels. "You are expected."

"Thank you," he responded, entering when the door was opened for him. Bodie knew he presented a fine figure and that he looked the tops in formal wear, so he paused as the door closed to give the room's occupants a chance to examine him fully. It afforded him an equal chance at observation.

Bodie didn't actually need to search to know that Doyle wasn't here, as he took in the sight of at least a dozen finely dressed gentlemen and twice that many elegantly outfitted ladies occupying the room. Some sort of inner radar that he and his partner possessed -- the irritating little sod had gotten under his skin that much, he mused with a touch of ire -- had already told him that Doyle wasn't here. Fuck, but he had it bad. He could immediately pick out Doyle's voice in a roomful of chattering people. He could smell Doyle's aftershave from twenty paces -- or more. He could read his partner's body language instantly, and without words, they would move as one, whether taking down a criminal or picking up birds. It was bloody inconvenient at times when there were no secrets left between mates. Well, no secrets save one.

Dragging his thoughts back to the job at hand, he focussed on his surroundings. It was a beautiful room. The walls were papered with golden cloth upon which a rather bright deep forest green floral pattern danced. Floral settees with matching upholstered chairs, and handsome wooden tables, were scattered artfully about, creating intimate spots for guests to gather. Freshly cut flowers graced the tables, and their fragrance was pleasant. A fire burned merrily in the massive fireplace.

"Ah, Sir William! Welcome."

Bodie turned towards the sound of the voice. He held out his hand. "Porchair. Good evening."

They shook hands and Porchair smiled.

"Come! You must have a drink. We have whatever you desire, I'm sure." The balding, portly man smiled.

Bodie surveyed him intently, a smile playing on his lips. He looked into pale blue eyes that gazed back at him. He'd disliked the man on sight when he'd met him the week before, during his initial interview, and that impression had not changed a wit. The man made his skin crawl and his stomach clench. But he kept his disdain in check. "Your best burgundy."

Porchair smiled as he raised a hand and instantly, a breathtakingly beautiful woman appeared. As Porchair conveyed Bodie's request, Bodie glanced over the woman's body. She was young, probably just out of finishing school, with high, full breasts confined behind shockingly white virginal silk. Just the right amount of cleavage was permitted to peek out, and Bodie could smell the woman's perfume. It was a heady scent, and he inhaled lightly, enjoying it.

"She is delightful, isn't she? This is her dÃ©but evening," Porchair commented, his beady eyes on Bodie while his mouth curled in what Bodie assumed was a smile. "And you have excellent taste. In wine, and in women."

Letting just a touch of interest show on his face, Bodie gave the woman a brief appraisal as she walked away. "She is exquisite."

"She can be yours," Porchair offered.

Bodie looked down at the man, his eyes cool. "I believe we discussed my preferences last week. I do find the lady -- tempting, but at the moment, I wish to browse what's on offer for a while."

With a dry chuckle that made Bodie want to hit the man, Porchair said, "A wise decision. We have so much to offer."

When the woman returned, Porchair waited until Bodie had taken the glass from her petite hand before he said, "Daphne, my sweet, this is Sir William. He's a very important man, so be kind to him."

"I'd be delighted," Daphne responded.

Bodie smiled. The woman's voice was silky smooth and cultured, her eyes clear and bright. His gaze slid across her face and down her body once more. She didn't appear drugged in any manner, and the skin on her arms and neck was flawless. Not a needle mark in sight. Her demeanour was one of elegance and intelligence. She definitely didn't appear to be held against her will, and she seemed -- content, even happy in her role. If Bodie had been looking for an evening's company, she would have been perfect... If that was what he had come to seek.  
  
Daphne slipped a manicured hand through his arm and rested her tiny hand on his sleeve.

Bodie sipped his wine. "This is excellent. My compliments to your sommelier."

"I shall be happy to pass that along."

"Porchair, while I appreciate your hospitality," Bodie glanced at Daphne, "and the most charming company," he added, raising his glass to Daphne before turning back to his host, "I would prefer to avail myself of entertainment more suited to my tastes." Bodie almost chuckled as the words slipped out, his tone decidedly arrogant. Doyle would have laughed himself silly if he'd seen the prancing Bodie was doing tonight.

Porchair smiled at Bodie, all beady eyes and sharp teeth. "Of course. Daphne, you may go." Porchair waited until the woman slipped away before he turned to Bodie. "I have someone who I think will meet your requirements."

"One choice?" Bodie responded coolly. "I would prefer to decide myself."

Porchair instantly blanched. "Of course! My apologies. You did make such a request, and it is entirely my fault that I had forgotten."

Bodie harrumphed, draining his glass. Forgotten, my arse, he thought. I doubt this little weasel would forget the ten thousand pounds he took from me that quickly. Bodie leaned over and said menacingly, "I paid you for unlimited access for a fortnight. You did say my choice, and as many as I desire. I expect you to honour my wishes."

The man gulped and fidgeted nervously. Apparently, his cover had been checked, and Porchair knew his "background". Incredibly wealthy and incredibly ruthless. Willing to be honourable -- when it suited him. Willing to kill -- if he was crossed.

"Of course, Sir William!"

"Good. Now... I've been out of the country for far too long, and I desire some civilised British companionship."

Porchair's mouth opened in what passed as a grin for him, showing his sharp little teeth. Bodie almost snorted with amusement at the distasteful picture Porchair presented, but he held himself in check.

"Now, Porchair," Bodie demanded, a cold smile on his lips and danger in his eyes.

Bodie was immensely pleased when he saw the man swallow and fidget. "Yes. Yes, of course. Please follow me."

\----------------------------------

The mansion was huge. Bodie was glad he'd memorised the floor plan because he'd surely have lost himself in the maze of corridors and staircases. After many minutes, Porchair finally stopped before a set of huge wooden doors. Large gold knobs graced the centre of each door and the wood was intricately carved with a rather unusual scene. Bodie could see riderless horses and a large group of hounds in the upper panel. He wondered where the hunters were, but when he quickly examined the lower panels, he was captured by the delicate carvings of a group of naked creatures. They reminded him of elves or nymphs, each sporting a tiny set of wings and garlands of flowers in their hair. Another panel showed the hunters. They were in the wood circling the cavorting nymphs, spying from the brush.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Porchair asked.

"Quite. It would do nicely in my hunting lodge. How much?"

Porchair laughed. "That will give us something else to discuss -- after you've been satisfied that choosing our establishment was the proper decision."

"Very good," Bodie said, straightening his tie.

With a nod, Porchair opened the door.

\---------------------------------

Bodie saw him instantly. He almost -- almost blew his cover the moment his gaze landed on Ray Doyle. Green eyes caught his, and he had to fight to remain aloof and casual as he returned the gaze, while every instinct in him was screaming to grab Doyle and run as far as they could. He had a job to do, they both did, but something wasn't right, and he knew it. Doyle...

Bodie was surprised at how hard it was to ignore Doyle and focus on the other occupants of the room. They'd been undercover together before, but something was setting off alarm bells in his head, and they were so loud that they almost drowned his thoughts. His eyes narrowed as he followed Porchair.

Porchair led him across the room, and Bodie sauntered slowly, intently examining each man, six in all. Each one was achingly handsome, he noticed.

"Introduce me to them," he ordered as he surreptitiously examined his partner, careful not to let his gaze dwell on Doyle too long.

Doyle was dressed nicely. A white silk shirt clung to his thin frame. Black trousers emphasized his body, moulded to every inch. Bodie could tell instantly that he wasn't wearing underpants. As he looked around, he realised that none of the other men were, either. They all revealed their -- assets to the nines.

But it was Doyle's face that drew his attention. He managed to study his partner for a few moments off and on. For one thing, he wasn't used to make-up on a man outside the theatre, and Doyle had definitely been made up, though sparingly. He had to admit, seeing Doyle's eyes outlined in black made the green even brighter, and the touch of colour on his lips made him look erotic and highly desirable, made Bodie want to take that sinfully beautiful mouth and do incredibly wicked things with it. Yanking himself back to rational thought, he realised that Doyle even looked younger. Bodie wasn't surprised that he'd passed for almost eight years under his actual age. With his shining curls and wide eyes, he looked precious and vulnerable. If anybody dared touch his partner... Bodie felt a spike of protectiveness slam him hard in the gut.

When Bodie realized that Porchair was nodding happily, babbling as he made introductions and pointed out the best attributes of each man, he made himself pay attention and let his interest in the proceedings show. He studied each face and body presented to him, careful to make sure that Porchair saw him equally assess each one. He asked for names and ages, and Porchair assured Bodie several times that all were of age and very willing. When Porchair finally introduced Doyle, Bodie gave him the same amount of interest he gave the other men, but he added a bit of a pout to his lips and a small shake of his head. Porchair saw what Bodie had intended: a decided questioning of why Doyle was being presented at all.

"I do apologise for Raymond, Sir William. He's -- new. Rather thin, I'm afraid. And the oldest, at 22. I don't usually take them over 20, but this was a favour."

Bodie waved off the man, nodding his reluctant understanding. "He is old. Still, I do have a fancy for green eyes, as I told you in my initial request. And curly hair."

"Yes. Yes. It's the only reason I added him. Green eyes are few and far between without red hair. If you wish to change your request to include red hair, I have two who-"

"No," Bodie said coolly. "I have a distaste for redheads. But this -- Raymond is the type I prefer, although he is rather thin." Bodie turned on the man, letting his ire show. "Do you not properly tend to your charges?"

"No," Porchair stuttered, "I mean, yes. It's not that! No, not at all! He'd been ill before he came to us." Bodie's eyes narrowed while Porchair's eyes widened when he realised what he'd said. "Nothing contagious! He's been cleared by my personal physician, and he's put on a pound or two this past week. I assure you," Porchair added hastily, "all of my charges are in excellent health! I demand that for the safety of everyone concerned."

Bodie glared down at the man for a long moment before he finally gave a graceful nod. "Calm yourself. I know your reputation. I'll take him." He cocked a head toward Doyle. Porchair had said Doyle had been ill. Is that why he appeared to have lost weight? He hadn't seen his partner for what? Two weeks at least. First Cowley had sent Bodie north on an op, then, when Bodie returned, he discovered Doyle had been sent undercover, setting up this very operation while he'd been gone. Doyle had not been as thin as this when they last parted -- while he tended to be slender, he was all muscle and sinew. What had happened? Bodie forced his jaw to relax before he demanded an explanation that would surely blow their cover, and kept his tone lazily arrogant as he softly said, "And I'll have him now."

Porchair's entire demeanour changed to one of relief and exuberance. "Excellent! Everything is ready for your pleasure." He turned to Doyle and said happily, "Raymond, tonight you are fortunate indeed! It will make me very pleased if you see to it that Sir William is well tended to."

For the first time, Doyle spoke. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "As you wish."

Bodie closed his eyes briefly, letting the welcome sound of Doyle's voice caress his ears. Even hearing just those few words, their deep tone, made his heart quicken. He had missed the annoying toad over the past two weeks. He was used to him. And now, with this op under way, he needed to get his partner alone, and find out exactly what had happened to him. Doyle looked all right, all in all, but still...

Casually Bodie followed Doyle from the room.

\-------------------------

Once the door was closed behind them, Doyle looked at Bodie before his eyes flicked upward. Bodie nodded curtly, understanding Doyle's silent message about surveillance. He followed Doyle when he said, "This way, sir."

Bodie held himself in check, not speaking, until Doyle stopped before yet another large door and after pushing it open, waved Bodie in before him.

The private room was as opulent as the other rooms had been, and for some reason it added to the uncomfortable feeling that he'd had earlier, when he'd first arrived. He hovered in the doorway, feeling ill at ease as he watched Doyle slip behind him and cross the room. Bodie saw Doyle glance at the bed momentarily before he made his way to the bar, and he wondered what thoughts were going through his partner's head about their situation. He scanned the room, instinctively noting any important details before he looked over at Doyle, who stood, waiting patiently, in front of the bar.

"May I pour you a drink, sir?" Doyle asked, giving Bodie an undecipherable look.

"Scotch. Make it a double," Bodie said roughly, finally finding his voice and his feet. He was beside his partner in seconds, a firm hand on one of his elbows.

Doyle carefully poured the amber liquor into the glass. He turned, and giving Bodie a much-too-forced smile, held out the glass. It wasn't so much his expression as his demeanour that made Bodie want to rail at him. Doyle acted -- subservient, and it set Bodie's teeth on edge the way he extended his arms, holding the glass with the fingers of one hand while the base rested on the palm of his other. He knew Doyle was acting his part, but it was all starting to irritate Bodie, and he still had no clue what was causing his anxiety. He stood looking at Doyle's hands, and briefly thought about knocking the glass from his grasp. Knowing it would be a daft thing to do, he searched Doyle's face before he leaned close to his partner and whispered, "Surveillance here?"

Doyle released a quick breath and finally gave Bodie a true grin as he visibly relaxed. "Yeah. Video only. No audio."

"Your doing?" Bodie asked, reaching for the glass.

With a smirk, Doyle nodded. "Yeah." Then he surprised Bodie by reaching out and running a single finger down his cheek. "For the cameras," he reassured. "Didn't want to knock out the entire system in case they called for immediate repairs. Reckoned if just the sound was wonky, they'd ignore it for the weekend and call for repairs on Monday. Seems I reckoned right." Doyle's hand caressed Bodie's skin.

Bodie's eyes slipped shut at the gentle touch and for a moment, he let himself relax before his eyes flew open and he demanded, "What the fuck is going on? You look like you've lost half a stone! Are they hurting you?" Doyle shrugged and turned his head. Bodie grasped Doyle's arm.

"Didn't think you'd notice," Doyle finally admitted. "Another drink?"

Bodie released his partner and thrust the glass into Doyle's hands and waited, his own hands clenching and unclenching.

Doyle poured, and then, looking for all the world like a servant, held out the glass, waiting patiently for Bodie to accept the offering. When Bodie only glared at him, he presented the glass again with a flourish. "Please."

"Don't be daft."

"What?"

"The manners, berk. It's me. Your partner, not some fucking -- client. Now tell me what's going on!"

"Want it to look good on film, mate." Doyle's tone was cocky but his eyes... His intense scrutiny studied Bodie until he felt like he was one of those bugs fastened to a board with a pin stuck all the way through its body.

Finally he answered Bodie's questions. "You're the first person I've -- entertained. And no, they're not torturing me. The day after you left for up north, I had take-away from that Indian place by my flat. Got food poisoning and spewed me guts up for two days. Lost three, four pounds, so when Cowley saw me, he decided it made me look -- young and sickly. The op came up the same day, so he picked me for the job and used the way I looked as our ticket inside. Pulled in a favour and had his contact get Porchair to take me in as a bloke who was eager and ready to work hard to get ahead. Had been treated poorly and was willing to -- fuck for money." Doyle glanced about, a frown on his face before he rested a hand on Bodie's arm. "For the camera," he said once again, making Bodie grit his teeth, but he stayed silent as his partner explained, "Anyway, I lost another pound or two, to make it look even better before I checked in with this lot." Doyle grinned. "So here I am."

Bodie felt a stab of relief knowing that Doyle hadn't been mistreated so he nodded, then sipped his drink.

"We'd better do something for those watching eyes," Doyle said. "I'm expected to please you, and I don't want to fuck up my first assignation now, do I?"

Bode stared intently at Doyle for a long moment. "Make it look good for the cameras, eh?"

"Might as well."

Bodie downed the rest of his drink, wondering how he'd got himself in this predicament. He had often thought about having Doyle in his bed, and now that dream was close at hand. He just hadn't planned on being in the middle of a bloody op when it happened.

"Just how real do you want this to look?" Bodie asked.

"As real as it gets."

"You don't actually expect me to fuck you, do you?" Bodie asked, surprise colouring his words.

With a serious look, Doyle set the glass down and moved closer, sliding his arms around Bodie's waist. He pressed the side of his face to Bodie's shoulder and tipped up his chin. The tip of Doyle's tongue swiped across his own lips, making Bodie suddenly warm and more than a bit uncomfortable. Bodie fidgeted slightly, wishing he could decipher what he could see dancing in Doyle's eyes. He saw something flutter across that green-tinged gaze, and for a second, could have sworn he saw- but no, Doyle was playing his part. He wasn't really interested in Bodie. He was working. Playing it up to the hilt, Bodie reckoned as Doyle cast him a wanton smile before his mouth moved close to Bodie's ear. Doyle chuckled deeply before he answered Bodie's question with an inviting, "Yes, actually, I do."

\-------------------------------------

Bodie's eyes widened and his throat closed. He couldn't even gather enough moisture in his mouth to speak. Doyle grinned and tugged on his hand. Dazedly, Bodie followed him toward the bed.

Doyle released his grasp on Bodie's hand and slid onto the mattress. He lay back against the pillows and with deliberate slowness, unbuttoned his own shirt, all the while watching Bodie intently. When he reached the last button, he allowed the silk to slide into white puddles on either side of his slender body. Bodie stifled a gasp, the sensual display sending hot flashes the length of his body and back. His cock responded instantly, and he shifted uncomfortably.

Doyle reached out to slowly unbutton his own trousers and with calculated motions, he unzipped. Bodie was amazed at how loud the zip sounded in the quiet of the room. He was more surprised that he could even hear the metallic sound over the pounding of his heart and the quickening of his breath.

"Doyle," he finally managed to blurt out. "Don't..."

"Come here," Doyle said seductively.

The sight of so much exposed skin made Bodie groan softly, and the sound of Doyle's voice was sweet and seductive to Bodie's ears. He lurched forward, climbing onto the bed, his movements jerky.

"Do it, Bodie," Doyle invited roughly.

Bodie remained frozen in place. Laughing, Doyle shook his head and rose to his knees. He reached out to loosen Bodie's bow tie and looped the sliver of material behind Bodie's neck, twisted the two ends around his hands, and drew Bodie forward until their lips met. The kiss was light and gentle, and Bodie moaned softly when Doyle's mouth covered his. He ached to reach out and touch his partner, but some small part of him resisted. Still, he felt the warmth of Doyle's mouth, and he didn't fight the probing tongue that requested entrance. Bodie parted his lips and let Doyle in, gasping as Doyle explored him deeply. He felt himself shudder under his friend's touch.

Doyle must have felt the shiver that coursed through Bodie, because he abruptly released him and tossed the bow tie onto the floor. Breathing quickly, Doyle's fingers shook as he pushed the formal jacket from Bodie's shoulders, where it fell from sight somewhere behind him. Next, each button on his shirt was undone and the material shoved aside. Doyle graced Bodie with a tentative but loving smile. Before he could respond, Doyle's head bent down, and his teeth gently raked over a nipple. Bodie gasped aloud.

"Like that, did you?" Doyle asked, glancing upward before moving to the other nipple, licking, and then sucking slowly.

Bodie shivered again, whispering, "Bloody hell, Doyle."

"Are you going to curse at me all evening?" Doyle asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"Fuck, no," Bodie responded, making them both laugh. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Doyle answered firmly before he pushed the dress shirt from Bodie's shoulders, where it snagged on his wrists. "God, Bodie. You're gorgeous," Doyle exclaimed when he had pushed aside Bodie's shirt. Next he unsnapped the cuff links and yanked the shirt free, tossing it over his shoulder before moving onto his belt, which was likewise thrown haphazardly onto the floor. Doyle's face was a picture of concentration, his tongue caught between his teeth, as he undid Bodie's button and zip. "Off. Get your trousers off."

For a moment, Bodie was too shocked at Doyle's actions to protest. He wanted Doyle, of course, but doubts still lingered. "Ray... You don't have to do this," Bodie finally managed to say.

"Want to. Bodie, now. Have always wanted to." Doyle's mouth found Bodie's once again, and this time, their mouths were rougher as they kissed passionately for many moments before he finally released Bodie's lips and, with a twinkle in his eyes, said, "It's not just because of the job. You know that, don't you? I've wanted you for a good while. And it's on Cowley's time, so we're being paid to do it."

Bodie laughed aloud, his uneasiness waning. Doyle was a grown man, and he was going at Bodie with single-minded determination. Who was he to argue, when this was something he'd dreamt about for so long? He trusted Doyle, and Doyle said he wanted Bodie. And he, in turn, wanted Doyle badly.

"Fucking hell, Ray," Bodie growled, roughly pushing Doyle back onto the bed to press the lengths of their bodies together.

\--------------------------------

Bodie was a man who didn't surprise easily, but tonight, he was astonished beyond belief. His partner, his best friend, the man he loved more than he'd ever loved another person, was in his arms and in his bed. Technically, it wasn't his bed, but he didn't care. He had Doyle close and naked and panting and aroused. So aroused that he saw an occasional tear of frustration leak out from the corner of those green eyes as he took Doyle into his mouth and let his tongue and teeth drive him slowly insane. Doyle pleaded and writhed on the sheets when Bodie brought him to the edge of orgasm several times, only to yank him back, leaving him close to sobbing with unreleased desire and more than a bit of frustration. Bodie knew that when Doyle finally tumbled over the edge, it would be that much sweeter. Doyle pleaded - Bodie merely grinned.

For himself, Bodie refused to come until he had given Doyle the most intense pleasure he hoped his partner had never experienced. Bodie's entire body was one huge throbbing nerve when he finally spooned behind his lover and entered him slowly while stroking and caressing Doyle to the precipice once again. Doyle's hands were clenched around a pillow, and Bodie was sure the material would rip from his hard hold. Timing his movements for maximum pleasure, Bodie pushed in deeply at the exact moment he allowed Doyle to fall. Doyle shouted and came, his orgasm hard and fast as the shudders racked the thin body and his hips pumped mindlessly, thrusting into Bodie's firm grasp. Bodie moved with care as Doyle came and pressed in. In moments, slick with lubricant, Bodie was buried to his balls, his fingers wrapped around Doyle's hipbone as he slowly pumped into his lover's body.

Doyle shuddered with each thrust, whispering Bodie's name in an endless litany. Bodie found the spot that would drive Doyle mad again. Doyle shouted, his hand scrabbling over Bodie's, and they laced their fingers together as Bodie continued to move.

Bodie planted small kisses down the taut muscles of Doyle's neck. He moved his mouth upward, finding Doyle's ear, where he nipped the lobe between his teeth before sinking sharp teeth into the flesh just enough to skirt the edge of pain. Doyle cried out

"Love you, Doyle," Bodie whispered. "Always have." He pushed in again, hard, before slowly pulling out. Directing their hands downward together they fondled Doyle's semi-hard cock. Bodie smiled into Doyle's ear and lightly licked him again as they stroked. Bodie thrust again, and again, and Doyle writhed, hips jerking as he grew closer to his own release. "Come for me. Can't wait any longer, Ray. Now. God, Ray!" When Doyle cried out, his second orgasm wrenched from his body by their joined hands, Bodie joined him, shouting his coming with his lover's name on his lips.

\-----------------------------

Bodie was absolutely amazed. Doyle had given him the best sex he'd ever had in his entire life. With a daft grin, he realised that it was better because he loved Doyle. All those birds, and a few odd blokes, and he'd never loved. He'd cared a few times, some more than others, and some not at all. But this... this was almost beyond comprehension. They lay together, dozing on and off. He kept Doyle in the circle of his arms and whenever he roused, he placed kisses on whatever skin was closest to his lips. At one point, he chuckled into Doyle's ear.

"What?" Doyle asked, his voice lazy and content.

"Didn't know it could be like this. Never... never loved..." Bodie cleared his throat before he continued. "Never loved anybody this much. Liked some birds more than others. But blokes... Fuck and run, most of them."

"I'm not running," Doyle said with a laugh.  
  
Bodie smiled at the sound. He smiled at the way his partner snuggled back into him as they lay spooned together. He grinned like a moron when Doyle actually giggled as Bodie's fingers roamed over all of the skin he'd longed to touch for what felt like forever. Now that he was free to explore Doyle to his heart's content, Bodie examined his partner's body with lazy curiosity. Tracing the scars on Doyle's chest with a fingertip, Bodie closed his eyes, relief coursing through his veins.

Doyle's hand closed over Bodie's fingers, and he turned to look into Bodie's face. "Hideous, aren't they?" Doyle commented.

Bodie smiled into that uncertain gaze. He pressed a hand to Doyle's chest. "Not in the least. They're proof that you're alive."

Doyle's smile returned quickly. "All right, then."

Bodie carded his fingers through Doyle's hair. "I don't like you being here without backup," he said seriously.

"Not much choice. We don't have enough to bust this lot." Seeing Bodie's unhappy look, Doyle smiled. "Porchair likes me. I think I can get into his office and have a good look around. I need a week or so. Gives me time without having to press it. Besides, this is more about gathering intelligence, information that Cowley needs. Nobody here is walking around with guns strapped to their bodies. From what I've seen, any way."

"Three days, Doyle. No more."

Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Says who? Cowley'll pull me out when he's ready."

"When I'm not around, you're on your own. Three days, Ray." When Bodie saw the determination on Doyle's face, he tried a bit of pleading. "Please. It's not good by yourself. Not with this lot. I've got the creeps just being here."

"Four."

"Bastard."

"Deal, then."

"Another thing..."

"Yeah?"

"I paid for a fortnight of -- entertainment. I'm telling Porchair no other clients for you while I'm in London. I'll give you a glowing recommendation. You'll be the darling of the brothel."

Doyle smiled. "Thanks. I was a bit concerned about what I would do now that we've..."

"Fucked?"

"Cretin."

Bodie laughed. "I'm not good at sharing."

"Neither am I."

Bodie kissed Doyle's forehead. "Business, then. What have you found out so far?"

Doyle settled back down alongside Bodie, his head on his lover's shoulder and his arm across his chest. "The whole set-up is wonky. None of the others are here against their will. Like me. We're free to come and go as we please."

"As long as you fuck whoever he chooses."

With a sigh and a pat to Bodie's shoulder, Doyle explained, "The others -- they're here because they're treated well. Talked to most of them. Their stories are all pretty much the same. They were taken off the streets by Porchair. Half dead. Abused. Drugged out. They were well looked after. And he explained exactly what was expected of them, with guarantees that they would not be asked to service the guests until they were ready.

"Porchair even encouraged me to ask around. He suggested that I ask about him and how he treats his charges, as he calls us. So I did. The first two days that's all I did, and down to the last one, they all say he saved their lives and he gives them enormous amounts of money, more than they could ever make on their own."

"He charges even more enormous amounts of money for their flesh."

"Yes, he does. I'm not defending him or what he does, just letting you know what I've discovered. The ones who have regular clients are given a good share of their earnings. Porchair is extremely generous, and that buys loyalty." Doyle fell silent before he admitted, "He must clear at least twenty thousand a month. More, most likely. And that's just from what I've seen."

"What if one of them wants to leave?"

"At the end of the contract, they're allowed to leave. Nobody is held against their will. And as far as I can tell, nobody's ever had reason to run to the law about how they were treated."

"Sounds too good to be true. Besides, what about that boy they found in Egypt? He was barely fourteen, and the autopsy said he'd been sexually abused and beaten. When they identified the body, MI6 and Interpol traced him back here to this organisation. There's no question about that."

Doyle pushed himself away to sit on the bed, his head bowed before he met Bodie's gaze. "The front business isn't the problem. The brothel keeps a very low profile, and everybody wants to be there. But the other side of the business... There are kids here. Younger than the rest of us. Eight of them. Saw them in the garden several times. But they're in another wing, and they don't cross to our side. Besides, Porchair's not the big man. He runs my side of the business."

Bodie sat up as well. "You saw them? Who's behind this?"

"Don't know who's manning the show, but... They aren't held against their will either. They were playing tennis, laughing, running about. Any one of them could have walked out. They've been -- I don't know, conditioned, brain-washed, whatever you want to call it. Porchair or his mates finds kids who've been abandoned or abused, tossed aside and nobody wants them. He takes them in, takes care of them, treats them well. They're loyal to a fault and will do anything he asks." Doyle shook his head. "The ones who stay here are better off than living on the streets, but the ones who are shipped off aren't so lucky, apparently. As long as the price is paid, then the deal is done. There's nobody to look after them any longer once they're sold off to some god-forsaken country to die in a ditch."

"It's not the whorehouse that needs to be destroyed, Doyle. You know I don't give a toss about that sort of thing. It's the rest of it. So we need to get the information to bust up the entire operation, even if this part, for all practical purposes, works out for the best for the kids."

For himself, Bodie knew how scared and lonely being a fourteen year old with no home or family felt. For all that he'd never resorted to prostitution, but he didn't condemn others who did, and neither did Doyle. "If Porchair and the rest of this lot hadn't got greedy and branched out into the slave trade, exporting bodies, they would have gone on with business for many more profitable years. But nobody's happy with dead English kids popping up in foreign lands. Do you know how it's done?"

"Not yet. That's why I need more time. I need to discover the pipeline and head man, and find those foreign bank accounts. And I need to see if there's a list or file with the names of those who've been shipped off, along with the final destinations, and possibly who paid for them."

"I don't like it, you staying on. Feels off. Wrong somehow. Gives me a bad feeling, this whole sodding set-up." Bodie sighed, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He glanced toward the windows. "It's almost dawn. I'm going to have to leave soon."

When their eyes met, Doyle smiled. "I'll be all right."

"I know."

"Go on. Sod off."

"Until tonight, then."

"I'll be waiting with bells on."

Bodie grinned at the thought. "Now that's something I'd pay to see."

"Bodie..." Bodie turned and waited while Doyle seemed to struggle over his words. Bodie was taken aback to see Doyle, who was rarely hesitant, apparently tongue-tied. But tonight was a night of firsts, so he forced himself into patience just this once and let Doyle find his own way. After a few moments, Doyle finally said, "Ah, fuck it," and he slipped from the bed. He walked over to Bodie and with his hands wrapped around Bodie's wrists, gave him a wicked grin and asked, "Give us a kiss, then? And make it a good one."

"For the cameras?" Bodie asked teasingly.

"No, you bastard. For me."

 

\------------------------

Standing before Cowley's desk, Bodie sighed and fidgeted. Cowley raised his head and peered through his thick glasses at Bodie before he shook it and returned to perusing the papers he held in his hands.

"A wee bit twitchy this morning, 3.7?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any particular reason?"

"Yes, sir."

Cowley leaned back in his chair, shaking his head as he pursed his lips. "Don't make me pull the words from your mouth, man! Speak up!"

Bodie sighed again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's this op, sir. Still the same. Something isn't quite right."

"You've made that observation each day for the past four, Bodie. Each time, after you've had contact with Doyle, you have given me your report and then you have unfailingly informed me that something about this op -- isn't quite right. To use your own words."

"Yes, sir," Bodie said, irritation tingeing his words. "Still the same, sir."

"Unless you have something more, 3.7, and until these names that Doyle's been able to gather are run through the computer, I need something other than your feelings to end this operation. Doyle's put in almost two weeks, and as well as your own efforts. We're getting close, and I hate to waste resources at this late date."

Bodie's mouth thinned into a tight line. "Yes, sir." He turned to leave.

"Bodie..."

"Sir?"

"I understand how you feel, and I admire your street sense and your hunches, but unless I have a damned good reason to abort this investigation, I -- we have to continue. There are lives at stake, young lives. And I haven't forgotten about Doyle. But it's his job, and he's good at it."

"Understood, sir." Bodie stepped toward the door and turned the knob. Before he exited, he added, "Doesn't make it any easier."

Cowley nodded. "Aye. That I know."

All Bodie could do was nod his reluctant acceptance of his Controller's orders and head home to wait until the next contact with Doyle, in twelve hours time.

\-------------------------

Bodie arrived at his flat and stood in the centre of the lounge, dread crawling up his back. With his teeth clamped together and his body sweating, he stormed to the drinks cabinet and poured a large whiskey. After a disgruntled groan, he tossed it back. Bodie stared into the empty glass before he let out a growl and threw it hard, smashing it against the wall, so that it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. With a slump of his shoulders, Bodie sighed tiredly. Four days of this, and he was exhausted, but still had barely managed to sleep since he'd discovered Doyle's role on this bloody op.

He calmed a bit, thinking about Doyle. The only sleep he had managed these past days was when he was wrapped in Doyle's arms, or when Doyle was in his.

"Fucking bloody school girl," he groused at himself. "Worse! Pining over Doyle. Get a grip! Doyle'd laugh himself stupid if he saw you mooning over him." Bodie finally chuckled. "Kick your arse ten ways to Sunday."

Feeling a touch better, Bodie made his way to the kitchen and found something to eat before he went to the bedroom and stripped. In the bathroom, he stood under a hot shower until he felt a bit more human. Dressed in clean clothes, he barely glanced at the bed, instead sprawling on the sofa in front of the telly. With the dull sound of voices droning from the television as background noise, he finally drifted into a light doze.

When his RT came to life, Bodie was up and on his feet instantly.

"Alpha One to 3.7. Come in, 3.7."

Running a hand through his hair, he barked, "3.7!"

Cowley's voice was tense, making Bodie grimace. "We have a problem. We're pulling Doyle immediately."

Already pushing his feet into shoes, Bodie moulded his lips into a tight line and shook his head. "I told you, Cowley!"

"It's Mr Cowley to you, Bodie. Our ETA is ten minutes. Get a move on, man! Out."

"Fucking bloody hell!" Bodie shouted at the empty room, his irritation, anger and fear slamming into his gut. He yanked on his shoulder holster and grabbed his jacket, jamming the RT into the inner pocket. He was out the door in less than twenty seconds.

Bodie knew he was driving recklessly, but he didn't care. He had at least fifteen minutes before he'd arrive at the mansion, so he used that time to call his boss once more, and this time to take in the details of the situation, which were minimal at the moment, but nonetheless harmful to Doyle. The only fact that Bodie cared about was that a name on the list had cross-referenced with Doyle from his days on the force, and that the man Doyle had brought in had been deported after his scandalous arrest. He'd vowed revenge those ten years ago, and Bodie knew that finding Doyle in that brothel would be a gift from the gods to the man, one Simeon Rhashad.

Cowley also passed on the information that Rhashad was currently attached to the Cameroon Embassy and held diplomatic immunity. Bodie could hear the disgust in Cowley's voice when he explained that Doyle had arrested Rhashad all those years ago for attempted rape and grievous bodily harm on a thirteen-year-old girl during Doyle's second year on the force. At that time, Rhashad had been using the name Julius Morbabi, and his passport had been confiscated when he'd been deported. It had taken the computer several wasted hours to link Rhashad to Morbabi, and then Morbabi to Doyle, so Bodie was even more aggravated to realise that Morbabi could have recognized Doyle hours ago.

"Ray, mate," Bodie said to the empty seat beside him, "I'm sorry. I knew something was wrong. Damn it!"

\-------------------------------

Tyres leaving patches of black rubber ten feet long, Bodie jammed on the brakes and launched himself from his car. He took in his surroundings in an instant. There were coppers milling about around the police cars, and blue lights flashing on the tarmac in front of the mansion. He recognized several of his fellow agents as well. Ignoring them, Bodie raced toward Cowley, who was standing with Murph. Bodie could see him nodding at Murphy before he met Bodie's eyes.

"Where is he?" Bodie demanded.

"He's been taken," Cowley admitted with a rueful shake of his head.

"Where's that bloody bastard Porchair?"

"He's in my car," Cowley said, nodding to the left. "Bodie!" he shouted when Bodie instantly moved toward Cowley's vehicle.

"Sir?" Bodie growled, hands clenched as he turned around.

"Don't get blood on my upholstery."

"No, sir."

The CI5 man assigned to guard Porchair moved away as Bodie approached. He nodded and gave him a knowing smile. Bodie smirked. A bad rep was a good thing sometimes, when one needed it. As he slid into the back seat next to Porchair, he saw the agent turn his back and light a cigarette. Knowing he'd been given free rein to do what was necessary, Bodie didn't bother taking out his weapon. He moved closer to Porchair, who looked at him with frightened, beady eyes.

"Where is Ray Doyle?" Bodie asked softly, letting every bit of contempt he had for this man overflow. He'd just as soon wring the little bastard's neck and be done with him, but he had to find his partner first. Cold reason washed through him, so that he fell quiet and deadly. "Tell me now, and I'll do you the favour of killing you instantly afterwards. Make me yank it out of you, and I'll make sure your death is very slow and extremely painful."

Porchair's eyes widened even more, and he shrank back against the seat. "I don't-"

Bodie moved quickly. He took the man's hand and barely pressed his thumb in exactly the right place. Porchair screamed and writhed. Calmly, almost gently, Bodie said, "Imagine what else I can do if this is just one pressure point on your filthy little body." He pushed again. Porchair screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. "Last chance," Bodie acknowledged, moving his hand to Porchair's throat.

"They took him!"

"Who?"

"Ambassador Rhashad!"

"Where?" Porchair sobbed. Bodie pressed a thumb into his throat. "Where?"

"I don't know!" Porchair cried, nose dripping. "Wait, please! He has a yacht, but he didn't tell me anything!"

Bodie searched the man's face, and knew he was speaking the truth. "What was he driving?"

"I already told them!"

Bodie pressed slightly, making Porchair gasp. "I want you to tell me."

"A white '78 Rolls -- Silver Shadow!" he squeaked.

Bodie pushed Porchair back against the seat, wiping his hands on his trousers with a grimace on his face. "You're a dead man," Bodie hissed before he clambered out and raced for his vehicle. He ignored Cowley's order to stop and by the time he'd opened his door and climbed in, Murphy was in Doyle's seat. Bodie didn't acknowledge the man, but he knew that Cowley had more than likely sent him to ensure that Bodie didn't kill each and every person who'd touched Doyle.

Or maybe it was to help him do so.

As they peeled out, Bodie picked up the two-way and barked, "3.7 to Alpha One. Looking for a white '78 Rolls Silver Shadow, heading to the docks. I need to know where Rhashad's yacht is anchored." Then he tossed the RT aside and concentrated on driving, leaving Murphy to answer it when it crackled to life several minutes later.

Bodie spied the Rolls fifteen minutes later, grateful that the bastard was driving as if he was out for a Sunday lark, obeying all the signposts along the way, and apparently not the least bit concerned that he'd kidnapped an agent of Her Majesty's government. Bodie wound his way around a slow lorry, and when an oncoming vehicle blared its horn at him, he slid in three cars behind the Rolls. The Rolls turned right and Bodie followed, waiting until the road was clear before he came up alongside the expensive car, cranking the wheel to smash into the vehicle and forcing it to the side of the road.

Bodie was out of his seat and racing to the boot in a flash, ignoring the driver and passenger he'd seen in the back seat. Either Murphy would cover his back or he'd die right there. Fate decided to let him live because he made it to the back of the car without being shot, and with a shaky hand, he pressed down on the latch. Thankful that it wasn't locked, he swiftly opened the lid.

\------------------------------

Bodie was silent when he saw that Doyle lay unmoving and covered in blood. He reached out to search for a pulse at Doyle's throat, and his fingers were instantly coated red. He set his lips into a hard line when he found it and for a brief moment, savoured the slow thrum under his fingertips. He couldn't see where all the blood was coming from, and his first thought was to get Doyle out of the tight confines of the boot where he could examine him and try to stop it. Afraid to aggravate any injuries further, he took a deep breath first.

"Murphy!" he shouted.

Murphy appeared immediately, his weapon trained on the two men who had climbed from the Rolls.

"Give me a hand."

"What about them?" Murphy said. "Want me to radio in to have them picked up?"

"They have diplomatic fucking immunity. And this is a public street," Bodie added, nodding toward several pedestrians, as well as a few motorists, who stopped to gawk at them. "I don't want them arrested, and I have a good idea where they're headed. I'll deal with the bastards -- later."

Murphy nodded, holstered his weapon and reached out to take Ray's legs while Bodie gently slipped an arm under his shoulders and neck, keeping the limp body as steady as possible. They'd no sooner lifted Doyle from the boot when the Rolls' engine screamed to life and the car started to peeled away.

Together, they carefully laid Doyle down, and Bodie pulled off his jacket, rolling it up to place under Doyle's neck for support. While Murphy called for an ambulance and alerted Cowley, Bodie used his handkerchief to wipe as much blood from Doyle's nose and mouth so that he could breathe unimpeded before he searched his partner's body for injuries.

"How is he?" Murphy asked, pulling off his own jacket to hand to Bodie, who gently laid it across Doyle's shoulders.

"Not shot. His head's split open. He's breathing okay, but there's a lot of blood."

"Head injuries bleed a lot, Bodie, but that doesn't mean it's bad."

Bodie didn't respond, pressing the bloody handkerchief to Doyle's head. Murphy's hand appeared before him. "Use this." Nodding, Bodie took Murphy's handkerchief and pressed it on top of his own. "He'll be all right," Murphy reassured.

Bodie remained silent, using all of his energy to concentrate on Doyle. He couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after... Viciously blocking those thoughts from his head, he sat beside his unconscious partner and tensely waited.

\-----------------------------

Bodie blinked at the sudden light that brushed across his face. Pushing himself out of the chair that he'd leaned back against the wall, he held up one hand to shield his eyes as he rose while his other hand reached for his gun.

"Relax, laddie. It's only me," Cowley acknowledged, entering Doyle's room.

When the door closed, Bodie huffed out a quick breath before blinking the grit from his tired eyes, nodding.

"Sir."

"The doctor says he's going to be all right."

"Yes, sir."

"Has he been awake?"

"A bit. Earlier. They gave him something for the pain, so he was pretty out of it. A bit woozy, but I think he knew I was there."

"So what are you still doing here, 3.7? Doyle wouldn't approve of you hovering about."

Bodie shrugged. "I'm watching him sleep. Sir," he added.

Cowley raised an eyebrow. "Go home, Bodie. You look done in, man."

With a sigh, Bodie rose. "Know I should, but... Don't know." He shrugged, shoulders slumping forward.

"It comes with the job."

"Yes, sir."

Cowley stood in front of Bodie, an unreadable look in his eyes. "Why were you unresponsive to your RT for almost two hours this afternoon?"

"I went back to my place to take a shower, sir. Had to wash off Doyle's blood. Got a bit of water on the RT, but it's working now."

Eyes narrowing, Cowley quietly asked, "You wouldn't know anything about an explosion on a certain yacht, would you? Happened four miles off shore, at roughly two o'clock this afternoon. Coincidentally about the same time you were -- showering."

"Was any one killed?"

"Yes. Again coincidentally, the same man who kidnapped your partner early this morning. Along with a few of his associates."

"Too bad. Engine malfunction?"

"Yes, I suppose it was." Cowley glared for a moment longer before he finally added, "Laddie, I want you go to home within the hour and get some rest. I expect you'll want to keep an eye on him for a bit after the doctor cuts him loose tomorrow."

Bodie's eyes widened. "You're giving me time off?"

"Three days only. Acceptable?"

"Yes, sir. Thanks. Oh, and Mr Cowley?"

"Yes?"

"About those tapes..."

"Tapes?" he asked. "What tapes are those, 3.7?"

"The ones from the brothel, sir. You will make sure they're not made public."

Cowley looked truly confused, making Bodie wonder exactly what had happened to those damning tapes of him and Doyle shagging the living daylights out of each other. "I'm afraid you have me at the disadvantage, Bodie. There were surveillance tapes, but only of the arrivals and departures, and in the main salon. At least, that's all we've discovered so far."

Bodie furrowed his forehead before he slowly nodded. "Never mind, then."

Pausing for a moment, Cowley finally said, "Good day to you."

"What time is it?" Bodie asked, finally realising that his bum was numb from sitting in that damned hard chair.

"Almost dinner time. Or should I say, time for a wee malt scotch." Cowley gave Bodie an understanding smile before he left.

Bodie couldn't help but smile and shake his head at the closed door. "Irritating old bastard," he said affectionately.

"Bodie?"

"Ray? Thank God. How's the head?" Bodie hitched his hip in the side of the bed, his gaze meeting Doyle's heavy-lidded one. He grinned and didn't bother trying to hide his pleasure at seeing those green eyes finally opened and focused.

"Feel like shit," Doyle whispered, grimacing. "What happened?"

"Don't you remember?"

"No. Wait... Oh, Christ. Blew me cover, didn't I?"

"Not your fault, mate," Bodie said sympathetically, putting a hand on Doyle's arm. "Took twelve stitches to sew up the hole in that noggin of yours. Lost a bit of blood, but no skull fracture. You'll be sprung by morning if all goes well."

Doyle closed his eyes, sighing softly as his fingers gingerly explored the bandages wrapped around his head. "What happened to the kids?"

"They're fine. Cowley took over the entire mess. He's making sure everything's set to rights. He's got the locals and anybody else he could roust out to search every nook and cranny in that entire building. He's in his element, ordering the lot about."

"Rhashad... or rather Morbabi?"

"Why don't you get some shut-eye? We can talk about it later."

Bodie wasn't surprised in the least when Doyle pried his heavy eyes open by sheer force of will and demanded immediate answers. His partner had always been a hard-headed bastard, and this latest injury proved that it was a good thing he sported that thick skull. With a daft grin, Bodie figured he'd better get it out before Doyle walloped him properly.

"Settle down, angelfish. He's dead." At Doyle's surprised look, Bodie shrugged. "There was some sort of problem with the yacht's engine. Made quite the light show, I'm told."

"You're joking."

"I'd never joke about something that serious."

"Of course you wouldn't."

Before Doyle asked any more questions, Bodie added, "And now, I'm under orders to vacate the premises, or I'll be in files for a fortnight."

"Cowley?"

"Cowley. He came to see you. Said I looked like shit. Imagine that! Me!" Bodie placed a hand over his heart.

"Cowley said that?"

"'course not. He said I looked tired. I was insulted. I always thought I looked rather -- royal."

"Your mum must have thought so. Named you after all those babies for a reason."

Bodie laughed before he fell sombre. "You stopped my heart, Ray."

"What?"

"Don't much like finding you in the boot of a car, bleeding all over the place."

"Didn't mean to. Rather have your heart for other reasons. I want you alive and well." Doyle smiled before he grimaced. "My head is killing me."

"I'll send in the nurse." Bodie rose and hesitated. "Doyle?" Sleepy eyes waited. Bodie could see the hint of pain hiding behind them, and he felt his heart lurch. He closed his own eyes, and it only took a moment to know what he wanted. He was so much in love with this irritatingly demanding, adorably sexy bloke that he thought he'd die with the right of it. On the spot. Never in his most private moments had he believed he'd ever become so besotted with another person, and feel so good about himself in doing so. Determined to know exactly where he stood with Doyle before he took his leave, he steeled his courage and forged on. "About all of it. What happened between us. The fucking and all. It wasn't just for the op. Not a one-off. I want us to talk about it. See what comes of it. We'll wait until you're on your feet. And if you want to, of course..." When he finally stopped rambling and looked into Doyle's eyes, he froze in place, holding his breath.

Doyle was staring at him with the strangest look on his face. If Bodie had been asked at that moment to describe that look, he would have said that Doyle seemed to be as taken with him as he was with Doyle. Dare he hope that his partner would continue to return his affections now that the job was done? He knew his own admissions of love went well beyond those nights of passion. And he hoped that Doyle felt the same. But still, there was something as yet unspoken that he could see Doyle struggling with.

"Ray?" he questioned, his voice husky.

"Bodie, it's all right. I understand. I love you, you daft bastard. I know how you feel. I feel the same." Then Doyle reached out his hand. "But there's something I have to tell you first. So you can decide properly."

Bodie grinned and took Doyle's hand, lacing their fingers together. "You have a way with words, sunshine. Love you, Doyle." Bodie leaned down and planted a quick kiss on his forehead. "And there is nothing you can tell me that will change my mind."

Doyle sighed softly. "This might," he said, looking downwards. Then he seemed to gather himself together and looked directly up at Bodie. "I wasn't quite truthful that first night." At Bodie's raised eyebrow, he swallowed before continuing. "When I told you that we were under surveillance..." Doyle paused.

"Ah, yes. The tapes, then."

"You know? How?"

"I tried to prod the information out of Cowley. About what he was going to do with them. For some reason," Bodie said with a grin, "he seemed genuinely confused about what I was asking. Why is that?"

For all his paleness, Doyle's cheeks grew pink. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."

Bodie forced himself to appear stern. "And what exactly did you do?"

"There wasn't any surveillance in that bedroom," he finally admitted. "I don't blame you for being angry-" Bodie's quiet laughter caught Doyle's words in his throat. "Bodie?"

"You bloody little sneak. You tricked me into bed!" Doyle grinned sheepishly at Bodie, who shook his head with amused exasperation. "Must have had a good reason."

"Wanted you. Really wanted you. Had to have you, no matter what."

"Never had anybody want me that much. And since it was you, I'll consider forgiving you. But it will take a good bit of convincing me, you know." Bodie let out a snort of laughter. "After you're back on your feet, of course. Or better yet, on your back in my bed instead of in here," he added roughly.

Doyle's eyes widened. "You're not mad," he said in a relieved tone. "I am sorry. Well, not for the sex." He grinned.

"Wanker," Bodie groused before he smiled. "Now get some rest."

"Ta," Doyle whispered, his eyes closing. "For all of it."

Bodie patted the warm fingers before he laid Doyle's hand on the sheet. He crossed to the door and opened it. Then he paused. "Oh, and Doyle?" He waited until Doyle looked at him through slitted eyes. "Ah, under that bandage on your head? They had to shave off a good bit of that rat's nest you call hair." At Doyle's shocked expression, coward that Bodie was, he beat a hasty retreat.

\--------------------------------

Cowley poured a finger of scotch into each of the three glasses, then passed them around. "Gentlemen."

"Thanks," Bodie said, raising his glass in salute.

"Sir," Doyle said.

"To your return, Doyle." Cowley lifted his glass. "And a job well done." After they'd all drank, he continued, "The file on a possible gun-smuggling op." He passed over the file. "Get to it."

Doyle smiled when Bodie said mockingly, "Welcome back, Doyle. Have at it."

Cowley gave Bodie a disgusted glance. "3.7, sometimes you're enough to try my patience."

"Sorry, sir," Bodie responded.

Raising an eyebrow, Cowley said, "Yes, I can see your contrition. However, because today is a day for good news, I'll overlook your attitude. Just this once."

Doyle snickered. "Kind of you, sir. Considering..."

"Yes, Doyle, it is kind of me."

"What's the good news, sir?" Bodie asked.

"I've just gone over the records, and my department has come in under budget this quarter."

Bodie exchanged a confused look with Doyle before he said cautiously, "Well done, sir."

"Good work, Mr Cowley," Doyle added. "But why are you sharing this information with us?" he asked, suspicion colouring his tone.

Bodie glanced at Doyle again before turning to Cowley. "Yes, why is that? Don't usually share so readily."

"Because," Cowley said with a smile, "I have you two to thank."

"Us?" Bodie asked.

"Why, yes, Bodie. You and Doyle." Cowley removed his glasses, still smiling. Bodie didn't like that smile one little bit. It looked more than a trifle brash. He remained quiet, exchanging glances with Doyle and waited until his Controller deigned to continue. "Now that you and Doyle are sharing a flat, I've been able to knock the cost of Doyle's accommodations from the budget. It was just enough to bring us into the black. The Minister was very pleased."

Bodie almost dropped his glass. Carefully, he placed it on the edge of Cowley's desk. "The Minister?"

"Why, yes, Bodie. The Minister approves the budget each year. And believe me, when I'm into the red, I've hell to pay. This year, I'm the golden boy. Everyone else was over the top." At Bodie's gape-mouthed expression, Cowley asked, "Am I mistaken? I don't think Doyle's been at his former flat for weeks now, and unless I've been misinformed, most of his things have already been moved to yours. I'm not one to waste resources. Correct me if I'm wrong."

Bodie cast a glance at Doyle, who was quietly snickering, his bent head hiding his face from Bodie's view. His eyes raked his partner's head. Doyle's hair had begun to grow back in the past few weeks, but he still wasn't used to it being so bloody short. He missed the curls and couldn't wait for them to return, though he'd never tell Doyle that. Dragging his thoughts back to the present, he looked at Cowley and clamped his mouth shut, only to open it a second later.

"You have a question, 3.7?" Cowley asked. "Or an opinion to offer?"

Bodie swore he saw a glint of amusement in his Controller's eyes, but discretion being the better part of valour, he shook his head as he rose and nudged Ray's shoulder. "Best we get to it, sir."

"Oh, aye." Cowley waved a hand at them, returning to his papers. "Take care how you go, lads."

"Thank you, sir," Doyle said, grinning at his partner as they made their escape from Cowley's office.

"He knows," Bodie said, barely managing to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Seems so. He's an even sort. Not one to prejudice, don't you know?"

"Yeah. I reckon that was his way of tossing us his approval," Bodie mused as they made their way outside, casting Doyle an affectionately teasing glance.

Doyle grinned and playfully punched Bodie's arm. "Reckon it was."

End

**Author's Note:**

> First published in Secret Agent Men 10 by Requiem Publications.


End file.
